Reflection
by FlutterStutterBOOMBOOM
Summary: How can one person change so much?  How can you get so lost, so hurt, so confused that you can hardly remember the girl you once were?  How can you start someplace, strong, and find yourself alone in the dark in the blink of an eye?  Tell me, how? Oneshot


The party was straight out of a fairytale. Not so much a party, though, as a ball, with shimmering gowns and handsome suits and slow music trinkling in the background. Everyone was beautiful, with perfect makeup and placid smiles and easy chatter. On the dance floor, couples spun elegantly, the boys twirling the girls around so that their feet never seemed to touch the ground. Acquaintances toasted. Hors d'oeuvres were sampled over discussions about the night's theme.

I sat backstage, observing, though I could have easily slipped amongst the party-goers. My dress was wispy and light mauve in color and my hair was curled loosely so that it fell in rolling waves down between my shoulder blades. I wore simple eyeliner and a shiny lip gloss. It was completely out of my element, but I somehow felt at ease. I sat in a folding chair, my legs crossed at my ankles, my hands clasped in my lap, a thick red velvet curtain separated me from the action.

"Max!"

I looked up and was confronted with a flash. I blinked, recovering.

The girl holding the camera smiled. "Don't worry. We'll take a real one later, and we'll tell you when that one's coming."

"Mmm." Did I know this girl?

She handed me the camera. It was professional quality, and digital. I looked at myself. I looked different, and it wasn't just the makeup. My face was paler, leaner. My lips were slightly parted in surprise, as though I were about to say something. My expression was real, not the fake, cold smile that one puts on for the camera. I looked almost fragile.

I looked beautiful.

Perhaps I was becoming vain. I had changed so much recently. I had grown up, but I had lost some of the spunk that had made me Max. I had learned, but I had grown colder. I became wiser, yet at the same time more tired.

Mystery girl pulled up a chair next to me. "Have we met?"

I shook my head.

She held out her hand. "Angela. I'm in charge around here. Very good to know me. But then, they say the same for you." She winked.

I took her in. She was about my age, a year or two older at most. Her hair was that perfect shade of blonde that simply could not be duplicated by hair dye, tightly curled and cascading down to her waist. Her dress was probably the prettiest there that night, dark green laced with gold sparkles. Her lips were a deep red, and they were smiling gently.

"So it's true," I spoke at last. "Beth really did die back in Paris."

Angela sighed. "Sadly, yes." I would have been disgusted by the lack of caring in her voice, but that would have been hypocritical.

"You look very beautiful tonight, Angela. I once knew a girl who was pretty like you. Her name wasn't Angela, but it was close. She had hair like yours, and those same blue eyes..."

"But my eyes are brown."

"Right. Of course..."

She stood up. "Put your shoes on," she advised, pointing to the strappy silver heels that I had left sitting next to me because they were just so hard to walk in. "We're starting soon." She paused, leaning over to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear and straighten the collar of my dress, which sat just below my shoulders. "Perfect. You look lovely." She walked away, the soles of her gold ballet flats clicking on the hard floor.

I heard her voice boom through the room seconds later. "Hello, everyone. Thank you all for coming. Everything is fantastic."

Cheers rang out. I could just picture her coy grin.

"We have quite the history, don't we? We are the eternal underdogs, yet look how far we've come. We have grown, as individuals and as a whole. We have fought each other and we have fought the forces that reigned against us, but we have stayed strong through it all."

I got up and moved quietly to a spot where I could see her talking. The security guard saw me and gave me a polite nod. What happened to the days when security guards had chased me, yelling and angry but all just a game to me? To us?

Angela continued her speech. "The DG formed quickly, a refuge for us broken souls who had been tortured, who had never known love. At first, that was all it was. But as new recruits spoke of the coming apocalypse, we began to realize just how accurate our name was. The Doomsday Group. Suddenly, we knew our job was to carry on, to live when the humans could not. At first, our ideals stated that all children were good and all adults were evil. A childish point of view, but a fine place to start. Slowly, we realized that it was not growing up that had made them wicked, but growing up without the privileges of genetic enhancement."

Where was I? Wasn't this the thing I was supposed to be stopping? Angela's words crashed down on me like waves. Rebirth or drowning?

I looked in the mirror and tried to catch a hold of who I once was. The girl who had stood strong in the face of anything and everything. The girl who had so much to be proud of. The girl who never let anyone else change her mind on what was right.

Was she still here? Was I still her? If not, who was I without her? I was a shell, world shattered, family torn apart, abused by life's monsters, big and small. I felt drained, somehow still connected with the old Max but at the same time like there had been some key characteristic that had gotten lost along the way, dimming me from the inside out. Could the new Max be proud of herself? Was this battle truly worth losing all she held dear, all she clung to, all that she had known herself to be?

I was not listening to Angela anymore, but she gestured for me to come onstage. I tried to walk on air, like a true queen would. Maybe I succeeded, maybe not, but either way the crowd erupted into applause at the sight of me.

And that's when I knew that yes, I truly had changed beyond the point of return. For the best? The worst? A bit of both? Did it matter?

That girl, the one who had lived in the mountains of Colorado, seemed so far away. I tried to remember me, but it was like holding a shard of glass in your hand; if you moved it even slightly it glinted differently and you were a bit afraid of all the sharp edges and in the end you decide just to do away with it before it can hurt you or anyone else.

I kept my eyes on the chandeliers as they asked me questions. I tried my best to answer. This new me, she was alone and she was young and already she felt worn down and beaten, but I embraced her.

She was all I had left now.


End file.
